Stolen Coats
by littlelostsheep
Summary: Short drabble - Cooper Anderson needs to blow off some steam, and a certain consulting detective is always available ... Rated T for implied sex and mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**Ciara, I blame you entirely for this.**

**This is a tiny drabble based on a picture of Matt Bomer in a coat that looks suspiciously like Sherlock Holmes'. This is a complete crack pairing - once again, your fault Ciara! Putting ideas into my head when I'm tired and not thinking straight ... As I am a complete wuss, I am unable to write smut, so it is merely implied. Enjoy!**

Six knocks on the door, fired off in rapid succession.

_Speed suggests impatience. Number of knocks indicates familiarity. Strength of knock shows urgency. Only one person it could be. _

Sherlock's cheek twitched in a small smirk, and he rose smoothly from the couch and crossed to the door. Flinging it open, he turned on heel and strode towards the kitchen, for once thankful that John was out. He was preparing two cups of coffee when arms wrapped around his waist, a hand splayed out across each hip. Other than a curt nod of greeting, Sherlock didn't acknowledge his guest. The other man growled, nipping Sherlock's pale, creamy neck, working his hands lower. Sherlock smirked again as he felt the agitation roll off his companion. "It's been a while, Cooper."

"Still a fucking tease, I see," Cooper groaned into Sherlock's neck. "The roommate out?"

"So, how did the audition go?"

Cooper froze, but the continued kissing down Sherlock's neck with a chuckle. "I don't remember telling you about that."

"That's because you didn't."

"Why are you even asking? You know anyway."

Sherlock nodded slightly. "Of course. Judging by the contents of your pockets and the size of the bag you dropped on the way in -"

"Oh, shut up," Cooper laughed, spinning Sherlock round and crushing their lips together. The detective backed up against table, bracing his hands against the sturdy wood. Cooper's hands had a firm grip on his shoulders, effectively holding him in place - not that he would have moved, even if he could. Sherlock gasped slightly as Cooper rolled his hips against his, feeling the other man slip his tongue into his mouth.

Cooper broke away only to murmur, "Bedroom, now," and Sherlock was more than happy to oblige. The men easily navigated around the flat without breaking apart, in a way only two people who'd made the same blind journey many times before could. They made it into the bedroom before Cooper slammed Sherlock against the closed door, pinning him there as he tore off Sherlock's clothes along with his own. The two men broke apart for a second, to relish the familiar rush of the other's presence, before falling back into one another.

* * *

Later that night, as the two men lay next to each other, the air hot and heavy with the heady scent of sex, they heard the front door slam.

"That'll be John," Sherlock muttered, fighting to stay awake.

Cooper raised his head, pushing himself up. "Then I best make my escape." He turned to wink at Sherlock, then jumped up and walked to Sherlock's door. Sherlock's bleary eyes followed him, definitely not admiring the other man's enviable body. Cooper pulled on his clothes, pausing before grabbing Sherlock's coat. "Think I'll borrow this - I'll be seeing you soon, anyway." Sherlock opened his mouth - to object, to question - but Cooper just winked again, tugging on the coat. "Figure it out, Mr. Holmes." And then he was gone.

Sherlock closed his eyes and fell back against his pillow. He didn't know if it was the lack of sleep for three days or the sex that had made him lethargic, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what Cooper meant. At least he could take some comfort in the fact that he hadn't lost his coat - after Irene Adler, he'd been sure to hide spare coats around 221B. Just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a little unrelated drabble - I may turn this into a series of random little drabbles, nothing regular or anything! Apologies, it's late and I wrote this in about five minutes.**

* * *

"Mr. Anderson," a voice greeted from outside.

Cooper whirled round to be greeted by the sight of Sherlock Holmes, grinning languidly and leaning against the door frame. Their gazes locked for a moment, before Cooper was darting forwards to simultaneously pull the other man inside and slam the door shut behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Case."

Then Sherlock was pressed against him, effectively trapping Cooper between the door and the detective's lithe body, kissing his neck and gently scraping his teeth across the delicate skin. Cooper let out a deep moan, only to be silenced by Sherlock's lips crashing against his, a kiss full of teeth and passion and too much tongue but one that Cooper desperately needed after the months apart.

Sherlock pulled away slightly to mutter breathlessly, "Ssshhh, be quiet!"

Cooper was happy to oblige.

* * *

Outside, a young art student stood frozen to the spot, hearing her teacher engaging in something she definitely shouldn't be witness to. With a small smirk, she hurried off to find somewhere else to do her work, deciding to keep this little nugget of information to herself - who knew when this would come in handy.


End file.
